


it's harder and harder to get you to listen

by sofarsoperfect



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-10
Updated: 2014-09-10
Packaged: 2018-02-16 19:55:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2282574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sofarsoperfect/pseuds/sofarsoperfect
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I miss you," Michael would mutter. It was stupid, pointless even that he said it. </p><p>Ashton would sigh, long suffering, into the receiver and sometimes he'd just hang up, other times he'd say "go to bed" or "I'll see you tomorrow, Mikey" (he never did) before hanging up. He'd turn off his phone and Michael would leave him a million missed calls.</p>
            </blockquote>





	it's harder and harder to get you to listen

**Author's Note:**

> so, i got really tired of trying to find fics that are written in the original perspective that 'why'd you only call me when you're high?' by the arctic monkeys is written, so i wrote one myself

Michael left Ashton too many missed calls when he went out with Alex, Jack and Calum. He felt weightless and crazy and a little lovesick when he wanted attention. Sometimes it was Luke when he was feeling especially annoying and whiny, but usually it was a stupid call at three in the morning to Ashton.

"What, Mikey?" He'd ask, irritated. Michael would slump against the brick wall of the science building on campus, his head feeling a little like it was stuffed with cotton. Jack and Calum were drunk and high, the muffled sounds of their recklessness filling the empty silence of Michael's only breathing. Alex usually went and threw up or was peeing in the bushes by this point.

"I miss you," Michael would mutter. It was stupid, pointless even that he said it.

Ashton would sigh, long suffering, into the reciever and sometimes he'd just hang up, other times he'd say "go to bed" or "I'll see you tomorrow, Mikey" (he never did) before hanging up. He'd turn off his phone and Michael would leave him a million missed calls.

"Why'd you only call me when you're high?" Ashton asked tonight and Michael chewed on his lip. Ashton waited for only a moment.

"When you can answer, I'll pick up again. Go to sleep, Mike," Ashton admonished and the line went dead.

-

The next day was as empty as it always was without Ashton. Michael rubbed his tired eyes and nearly fell asleep in every one of his classes, feeling Luke's judgemental gaze on his back through poetry. It was exhaustive and when Luke tried to talk to him, all Michael could muster was a, "Shut the fuck up, Luke," before walking bristly away.

He got high again that night. He never got high alone, it made him worse. Even more low when he reached it but he dialed Ashton's number sooner than last night.

"Michael-"

"You remember when we got high together, right? Like, so fucking high, you laugh a lot when you're high," he recounted and Ashton pressed his lips together. "Remember the sex we had when you were high?"

"Mike-"

"I mean it. God, it was awesome. I've never had such great sex in my life. And that's saying something because I was basically gagging for Jack's dick when we were together. Fucking Jack doesn't even come close to riding you, babe. You made me come so hard," Michael muttered and Ashton breathed out shakily.

It was only midnight so Michael was just getting high. If Ashton could remember, this was happy, horny Mike. This was him high as a kite and wanting to stay that way. Michael coming down, Michael slowing down, that was three a.m. Michael and Ashton suddenly wished he was talking to him.

"Mikey," Ashton whispered and Michael laid back on the bed, hand not holding the phone under his head. "Why?" Ashton finally finished after a long pause.

"Because that's why I call you. We only ever talked, fucked, were a couple, when we were high," Michael said, an almost bitter laugh tacked to the end.

"That's not true-"

"Shut the fuck up, Ash, yes it was. You barely kissed me when we weren't. It wasn't the amazing, frantic sex when were sober, it was shitty, lazy love-making. The kind of shit that middle-aged parents do when it's all they got. We were never real. It were a pot clouded dream," Michael sighed and if he was still a song writer, Ashton would write it down. He would give it to Michael the next day to make a lyric out of, but he wasn't and he wouldn't.

"Why do you still call me then?" Ashton's voice echoed over the reciever and Michael breathed out. The clock said half to one and he was teetering. He could fall any minute now. He needed another hit.

"Because I loved you. Even if you didn't love me," Michael admitted. He hung up tonight.

-

Ashton deliberately seeked out Michael the next day, finding him nursing a coffee in the off-campus cafe, scribbling his pen across a notebook. Ashton froze, hit with deja vu of meeting Michael in the exact same booth, early in their relationship. He'd kiss Michael hard and admire the purple-blue hickies healing on Michael's pale skin from their antics the night before. Before weed became the instigator.

"Hey," Ashton said, sitting across from Michael. He lifted his gaze slowly and then all at once, setting his pen down.

"What're you doing here?"

"You worried me last night," Ashton said and Michael snorted, taking a sip of his coffee. Ashton rolled his eyes. "You did. You never go out two nights in a row with Cal and them. You were alone. You do some fucked up shit alone, Mike."

"Well, I'm not dead and I went to my classes today. You can go now, _dad_ ," Michael said, putting emphasis on the last word. Ashton tucked his tongue behind teeth, his features scrunching up in irritation. Michael picked up his pen and looked back down. "Don't make that face. It'll get stuck that way." Ashton snorted this time.

"Our relationship wasn't a one-way street, Mike," Ashton told him but Michael didn't look up. Ashton leaned close. "I loved you too."

"Funny way of showing it," Michael replied bitterly and Ashton leaned back, shaking his head.

"You're so infuriating. It's not all about you, Michael," Ashton told him fiercely and Michael lifted his head again, slamming his pen down.

"Yeah. It's suddenly all about me because I wanted a boyfriend who gave a shit," Michael retorted. "Whatever, Ash," Michael scoffed and picked up his things, walking out. Ashton huffed and leaned against the seat of the booth, closing his eyes.

-

"You don't have to settle for me, Mike," Jack told him, turning his head to look at Michael. Michael was still panting when he looked at Jack, his eyes wide and confused.

"I'm not-"

"You are. You should be fucking Ashton, not me," Jack told him and Michael groaned, pulling the sheet over his head. Jack laughed while Michael turned onto his side, resting his head on Jack's shoulder.

"I'm such a fuck up."

"No, you're not. You're 19."

-

"I want to kiss you, like, all the time," Michael began and Ashton sighed. It was almost three in the morning.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"I'm coming over," Ashton told him and Michael sat straight up.

"No."

"Too bad. Give me ten minutes," Ashton told him and hung up.

He drove over and Michael had finished a new blunt in that time. There was a filter sitting in the ash tray when Ashton walked in with the spare key, Michael lying across the island in the kitchen. Ashton climbed up, straddling Michael's hips.

"This is opposite," Michael sighed and Ashton shook his head.

"Stop callimg me when you're high."

"No."

Ashton leaned down and pressed his lips to Michael's, Michael curling his fingers into Ashton's hair and holding him in place. Ashton put his hands against the counter, pining Michael between him and the cold tile.

"I loved you," Michael whispered.

"Is it cool if I still love you?"

"Yeah."


End file.
